


crawled out of the sea into my arms

by viccristak



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, just self-indulgent fluff tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 19:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11110917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viccristak/pseuds/viccristak
Summary: It’s been a week since they left Kirkwall behind – or ran away from it, more accurately – and the pirate wonders when the captain’s quarters became as much Hawke’s as they are hers.





	crawled out of the sea into my arms

**Author's Note:**

> kinda inspired by pelinal's last hawkebela one shot (it's great, you should read it!)

Isabela is sharpening her blades inside her quarters, just as she always does before bed, when Hawke interrupts her.

“Merrill doesn’t seem to like sailing,” she says as soon as she enters. “She was turning _really_ pale.”

Isabela stops what she’s doing, looks at Hawke and raises an eyebrow accusingly. “And you left her alone?”

“She’s with Varric,” she replies, taking off her gauntlets.

“As if that’s better,” scoffs the pirate. “Varric hates the sea. He’ll be back in Kirkwall the second it stops burning.”

Hawke doesn’t answer, instead focusing her attention on taking off her armour. She’s sat on the bed now, taking care of the boots first. When one of them is off, she finally answers Isabela.

“I don’t think Kirkwall will _ever_ stop burning.”

It sounds like a complain but Isabela knows better. Hawke loves the thrill of a city on fire that hides broken people and broken things around every corner. It means she has something to fix.

They’re silent for a long while, Isabela resuming the task of sharpening her blade while Hawke undresses herself. It’s been a week since they left Kirkwall behind – or ran away from it, more accurately – and the pirate wonders when the captain’s quarters became as much Hawke’s as they are hers. But she looks like she belongs, somehow. There’s a space on the wall clearly meant for a bigger weapon than Isabela’s daggers, and Hawke’s longsword fits just right.

Hawke does _not_ know anything about sailing, she wasn’t lying, but Isabela can’t help but feel like she still belongs to the sea. There’s something about the way she easily moves around the ship, how she commands the crew when Isabela’s not there to do so for whatever reason – she supposes this shouldn’t be a surprise; she did lead the lot of them before, but still, sailors are a different story; rougher, somehow.  Yet everything seems to come natural to the champion. Isabela compares it to how natural her love for the sea feels, how natural her love for _Hawke_ feels, because really, at some point the difference between the two began to blur.

“I think your dagger is sharp enough,” says Hawke, snapping her out of her thoughts. She realises with a start that she has been cleaning her blade for longer than necessary.

Hawke is already in bed with a book in her hands. She’s looking at Isabela with a soft smile on her face, the one that only a few people are lucky enough to see. She raises an eyebrow, pats the space next to her on the bed. Isabela chuckles.

“Everyone is going to be leaving soon,” says the pirate, settling in next to Hawke.

The window is open, and the ocean breeze makes her shiver a little. Hawke immediately notices; she discards her book and covers herself and Isabela with the thin blanket. A smile makes her way onto Isabela’s face subconsciously.

“Yeah, they are,” Hawke says, once the pirate is tucked into her side, with an arm draped around her waist. “Couldn’t expect them to stay with me forever,” she attempts a joke, but Isabela knows it’s hard for her.

The pirate squeezes Hawke’s waist in comfort. “You took care of them – of _us_ – for years, Hawke. That’s not something you can forget.”

Hawke doesn’t say anything, instead kissing Isabela’s forehead. The pirate hums appreciatively. She wonders when she began to _want_ this kind of intimacy with the champion, the one that doesn’t require any lust. It feels good, refreshing, to be loved for something other than her body. Of course, Hawke _does_ love her body and their relationship started off because of raw desire but it slowly shaped itself into something more – still messy, but Isabela wouldn’t have it any other way.

“What are we going to do, then?” Hawke finally breaks the silence.

“Whatever you want, sweet thing,” answers Isabela, and she means it.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Antiva.”

Isabela laughs. “I’m not sure we’ll find peace there,” she says, “but sure, we can stay for a bit.”

“Who says I want peace?” says Hawke, smirking.

Isabela looks at her then; she looks at her short, dishevelled hair, at the attractive quirk of her lips. She thinks of how much has happened, of what they’ve been through, of how this woman managed to break the walls around Isabela’s heart only to protect it more strongly than Isabela herself ever could. She suddenly positions herself on top of Hawke and kisses her entire face: her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her chin, and finally her laughing mouth.

“I don’t know what I did to get that sort of reaction, but I’m not complaining,” says Hawke, once they’ve pulled away.

Isabela leans forward again, this time leaving  a trail of soft kisses on Hawke’s neck. “I’m just thinking about how much _fun_ we’re going to have in Antiva,” she says, stopping her ministrations to look at Hawke’s face once more.

“Oh,” Hawke breathes out, and Isabela feels the champion's hands slowly caressing her bare legs under the blanket. “Do I get a little sneak peek?”

Isabela laughs. “Maybe.”

Hawke’s smile blinds her for a moment. It’s new, being loved so openly, being _happy,_ but Isabela could spend her entire life getting used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> i have no idea where this came from. my tumblr is hawkebela! feedback is appreciated!


End file.
